


Becoming Lucretia Malfoy

by AnaisBelle



Series: Time Travellers [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Pregnancy, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ritual Public Sex, Rituals, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:57:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3432125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaisBelle/pseuds/AnaisBelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was nothing, not even worthy enough to have a number, but she was the mother of Infinity, Double Zero, Voldemort's favored pet. The only one to gain a name. Lucretia Malfoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Lucretia Malfoy

Whether it was days, or years, Zero no longer cared enough to know. She was once a mighty warrior, a muggleborn witch, the brightest witch of her age. But Hermione Granger was no more.

She looked down at the horrid scar, the cursed markings of MUDBLOOD, that Bellatrix left upon her thinking about just how much of nothing she was. Muggleborns, Halfbloods, even Purbloods who were labeled blood traitors had a number. Like victims of the Holocaust, they were numbered, their ID ink upon their forearm, to trace their lineage, their area of housing and their current and future occupation.

All she had was a never healing scar left behind by a crazed witch whose favorite position was on her knees before her lord. Zero knew it well enough, seeing as she was usually forced right beside her.

That, however was beyond the point. It mattered not how she became nothing, only that she was nothing, had been nothing since that ghastly flash of emerald green ended all that she ever was, and that she would always be nothing. And all that came from her would be less than.

“She needs a name.”

Zero started, then snorted when she noticed who it was.

“She has a name.”

Hermione looked down at the two zero’s that were placed just above the child’s wrist. Anyone branded with a starting number of zero was direct property of He, to be untouched by any but him, and the number shall only change if gifted to one of His Favored. For a child of nothing, there was no way she could bare a name, even if the child child was his.

“She shall be Lucretia.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow and snorted once more.

“Aren’t you digging along the wrong tree? I’d thought they were abandoned upon you’re Mothers marriage.”

He stepped closer.

“By him perhaps, but..”

A light touch made the sleeping child twitch.

“Welcome to the world, Lucretia Malfoy.”

***

Zero had lost count of the number of thrusts made into her since He began his reign, right around 978,654, give or take a hundred or two. Now, she dreamed.

Awake though she was, for truly sleeping could never be done these days, she dreamed of how this came to be. She had once dreamed of happier times, and in those moments of real sleep snippets could be seen, but the horrors of reality began to blend so well with her nightmares, there was no being free.

Hermione could never say she’d never seen death. His need to kill was so thorough that it was no longer necessary for the words to pass through His lips. The flash of green shot out with the barest flick of his wand, just as it did now, the poor sod above her collapsing mid climax and yet protecting her from harm.

Even as she felt the last vestiges of involuntary move, twitching muscles and his wet release, in her dream-like state it didn’t touch her, it couldn’t touch her. Zero still lived because she refused break. She refused to let go of those green eyes that dulled in the midst of every green flash for years on end, just as she refused to take note of the red eyes who watched her. Who held her infinity, her double zero, her only child upon his lap, hands in places that should never be touched as the four year old looked on with a joyous glee.

He agreed to wait, she tells herself.

He would wait and she would take the train every night, for many nights. It mattered not if she screamed, the sound of silence was, at times, pleasant to his ears, for He could see her mind even clearer than she could. For He could watch the fading green eyes beneath every flashing light - and laugh for it was He who shot that light at bearer of those eyes, while she was locked away slowly becoming the nothing that she was.

He agreed, but would do so anyway for she would never deny the price it took to keep her at her side.

***

In the middle of the night, when the world was sleeping, he would come to visit. Silver eyes glittered in the dying candlelight, as each step brought him closer.

He was a puzzle, this young Malfoy. So changed, and yet not. Broken and yet whole. He looked upon the one he made with such a glow that Zero could almost feel the her heart beat. In this moment she existed, for it was she helped bring this child to life and there was no such happiness could brought from nothing. Even magic had its limits.

“You mustn’t touch her.”

Her words made him freeze every time, and for the nth time Hermione waited for her reprimand, just as she waited for the sorrow that filled him, especially on this particular date, but even though she wished upon a star not ten minutes ago, she knew what she hoped against had come to pass.

“She’s mine now,” he informed her, though he hadn’t followed through with his touch. “Or else she will be. She will take her name, she will wield a wand and she will become the greatest witch there ever was.”

Aside from her, a snide little voice reminded her.

“She’s mine.”

He looked down at her like what could be pride, as though the child of nothing meant just as much as the heir his wife had gifted him.

“Never.”

The whispered word should not have left her lips. Would never have left her lips, had he been anyone else.

“What was that?”

She said nothing. It wasn’t that she was afraid of him, she was no more afraid of him than she was when she first met the snot nosed brat on the Hogwart’s express all those years ago. She listened to the sound of silence, broken minutely by the feel of anger, simply because she had to.

She may be nothing, but Lucretia was a number.

“Speak up,” he hissed and their eyes met for the first time that night.

Zero frowned and stood, moving to sit on the tall table beside the door. The farther she was from the child, the less likely she was to wake her.

"She will not be yours," she spoke without care. She was being pushed, she hated being pushed, but she was smarter than most and hoped that his anger wouldn't spread from this room.

"She will not be yours," she repeated. "She will never be yours. She is His, has always been His, will always be His.

"She is of Him."

He frowned, looking as though he had seen heaven and she had snatched it away.

"Draco."

Hermione called his name several times before receiving a response.

"He may gift her to you. Allow her your name, allow you to teach her and 'raise' her as your own. But until I... until he..." she shook her head.

"She will never be yours and you could never take her away from me."

***

The time had finally come.

It was sooner than Hermione expected, at least two years too soon by her calculations, but He was a most impatient one. Even after so many years, so thorough His rule had been, still He was never satisfied.

She was glad she would never see the day that he was.

Zero knelt naked, after having been bathed and painted in potions and mixes of oils and dried herbs in various runic patterns. There was a ritual circle and pointed pentagram. A single point was directly before her, touching the circle at the same place as a line that connected this circle to the larger one barely feet away.

She had watched with a quiet reservation as her Infinity was wed to Him. The robes she wore were almost muggle in design, colored a dark green, which looked almost black in the lighting.

Her reservations held from the moment to this one. Her young child’s dead eyes watched hers as she was penetrated time and again; face painted in the secretions and blood from the initial penetration and would soon be painted with a second set of runes to complete the ritual once the consummation was complete.

It was obvious more now than throughout the child’s life why she was chosen. It brought pride into her heart of what could be born of nothing. For just a moment she left the child’s face to look upon the scar that currently burned and bled where it adorned her arms. Where she had once hated that the word MUDBLOOD was carved there instead of a number, for just a moment she remembered just what it was and what it meant.

If for only a moment she was once again Hermione Granger.

She looked up to face the pain of the one who gifted her this child. He watched on as silently as she, though never once did his eyes stray from the scene. His son would be of age soon, would be publicly named, gifted the rarity of a wand and be allow to train into His ranks. She knew soon this man would finally break, though was surprised he hadn’t already. The price for the time beneath his father’s wand was finally being paid.

Hermione suddenly gasped as the spell placed upon nearly fifteen years ago to the day had finally been completed. Since her naming day it had been awakening, and only her presence kept the curse from running wild. These binding circles would hold well for the moment until the ritual was complete, keeping her Infinity from destroying all with her sight.

Their eyes met for one last time, the Mother with a stubborn grace, the child but a pale imitation of such. The young one lifted her hands slowly, and He looked on with approval when she spoke the unheard words.

In a burst of magic, she took her within her. Lines of ancient script ran alongside the snakes that bound the magic within her body, appearing first upon her fingers and ending at her mouth. She watched as the body across from her burst into the very magic that made her and ate it.

She heard an echo of thoughts as she ate the woman who made her, _He will not win_ the most prominent of them and soon Hermione Granger of the Gold Trio, Zero the nothing of the New World Order, mother of Infinity, Double Zero, Lucretia Malfoy, the only named number was no more.

***

She’d been pushed here, first my her father, then by the traces of her mother’s magic within her.

Infinity could taste her name on her tongue, the infinite pasts, presents and futures within the tear in the universe the Dumbledore girl was slowly making.

Her brother’s hands were sweaty, unmoved from within her grasp since her father placed it. He told her to come here, with a kiss to each forehead and “Live” continuously whispered through worried lips. There was no sense within this scene: the arguing couple and crying child, the broken woman in search of someone she’d never have, and the siblings who were their father’s greatest pride and strongest guilt. 

None of them would live through the end, Lucretia was sure of it, as they all stepped within the circle, determined to change the tides of time. But she carried on filled with hope, even as the unseen wildcat broke the circle ripped the time warp beyond their control, bound to send them far from their chosen destination. The magic of her mother was warm with reassurance, even as the seed of her husband kicked with her.

She was Lucretia Malfoy.

He will not win.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments welcome!!


End file.
